


All That I Am

by Sabishiioni



Series: Because of You [1]
Category: The Musketeers (2014)
Genre: Angst, Blood, Canon levels of violence, M/M, Near Drowning, Slight spoiler for 1x4, Threesome - M/M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-26
Updated: 2014-06-26
Packaged: 2018-02-06 07:49:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,417
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1850158
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sabishiioni/pseuds/Sabishiioni
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Three times d'Artagnan was excluded and the one time he wasn't.</p>
            </blockquote>





	All That I Am

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own Musketeers  
> Warnings: Read them (Even the ones in bold, please)  
> Follow Me:[Tumblr](http://sabishiioni.tumblr.com/)  
> Follow PI: [Tumblr](http://projectinsanitywriting.tumblr.com/)  
> Mindless Babble: Welcome to the soft opening of Project Insanity!

_one_

He sat at the table, alone and wondering where his friends were. Athos had promised to help him train with the sword, while Aramis promised to help clean his musket. Porthos merely promised to buy the first round of drinks at the end of the day.

D’Artagnan looked up as his three friends emerged from Captain Treville’s office. His smile faded as he saw the grim expression on their faces. He shrugged, figuring there was a mission that preempted their training, which was fine with him. Missions weren’t that bad. Most of the time. Well, some of the time. Alright, they were usually horrible, life-threatening things, but at least they weren’t boring.

“So, where are we going?”

Athos sighed, avoiding eye contact with the younger man. “We are going to a town about a day’s ride from here to see if rumors of a rebellion are true.” He paused before finally looking at d’Artagnan. “You will be staying here. This is a musketeer only mission. The captain made that quite clear.”

“Sorry, d’Artagnan,” Aramis grinned. “Maybe we’ll be able to bring you back something!”

Porthos clamped his hand on the young guardsman’s shoulder, squeezing it gently before joining the other two heading towards the stables.

***  
Four days later, the three Inseparables returned on a pair of horses, Porthos slumped in front of Aramis. The moment they rode into the courtyard, the three men were met by medics, two of whom carried the dark skinned man away. Others assisted Aramis and Athos from their mounts. Try as hard as he might, d’Artagnan could not make it to them before they were rushed off to the medical wing.

He tried to patiently wait, but the fear in his heart wouldn’t allow him to do so. He made his way to the rooms he knew his friends were in. There, a pair of guards stopped him.

“I just want to see if they’re alright…”

“Sorry,” one of the guards replied. “Only musketeers are allowed past this point.”

“But they’re my friends!”

Both guards shook their heads, refusing to allow him to pass. 

***  
It wasn’t until the next day that d’Artagnan overheard that Porthos was expected to make a full recovery and Athos and Aramis would be released later that day. He smiled at the news, even as he tried to swallow the hurt that came with knowing that no one thought to tell him the condition of the only family he had left. 

_two_

“Hold on, Athos!”

Porthos and d’Artagnan pulled on the rope the man clung to as the raging waters threatened to tear him away. Aramis was in the water, reaching for Athos while hanging onto the rope with the other hand. The second he came within reach, Aramis wrapped his hand around the man’s arm pulling Athos to the riverbank. 

Porthos dropped the rope, sprinting to join the pair on the rocky shore. Falling to his knees, the larger man wrapped the pair in a fierce hug. Athos let out a token protest, but it was clear he was content to be smashed between his two friends as his arms weakly gripped them.

D’Artagnan stopped a few feet away. He watched the trio, realizing there was no place for him in that hug, even for as much as he wanted there to be. Swallowing, he turned and quietly walked away, rolling up the rope. His feet took him back to the horses where he tried to be content with the knowledge that Athos was alive. He calmed the skittish horse that had thrown his rider into the river, causing the near tragedy. 

“D’Artagnan? Are the horses alright?”

Looking over his shoulder, the Gascon nodded mutely at the three. Athos, though pale, slowly ambled between the other two musketeers. D’Artagnan handed him the reins of his own mount, taking the skittish one to ride, figuring he would be in a better state of mind to calm the creature. Athos nodded his thanks and swung unsteadily into the saddle, still too shaken to notice the difference in horses. 

They made their way back to the barracks with d’Artagnan following as Porthos and Aramis rode on either side of their friend. None of them saw the look of utter longing in the deep brown eyes.

_three_

D’Artagnan entered the house quietly, least Aramis was asleep. He carried a bottle of wine, the best he could afford, wanting to gift it to his friend. For as much as he hated Marsac, he hated the look of sadness in Aramis’ eyes far more. He knew the wine wasn’t the best, but he hoped it would help to cheer the man.

The house seemed empty making D’Artagnan suddenly feel a little foolish. Of course Athos and Porthos would steal Aramis away for a night at a tavern. He should have expected it to happen tonight. That the invitation did not extend to him, no longer surprised him. It didn’t mean that it hurt any less.

He was setting the bottle on the table, intending to simply leave it there, when he heard a sound from the bedroom. D’Artagnan drew his dagger and crept towards the smaller room, hearing it again. There was someone in there, moaning. Biting his lip, he advanced on the door, expecting to find either a drunk or injured Aramis.

What he actually found when he looked through the partially open door were his three friends, naked and on the bed. Porthos lay on his back with Aramis sprawled on top of him, the pair locked in a passionate kiss. Behind them, Athos slowly thrust in to Aramis, his movements careful and gentle, dipping his head to place soft kisses on the pale back.

Feeling himself growing hard at the sight, d’Artagnan blushed and quietly backed away. What he wanted, what he dreamed of was only a few feet away but he had seen their expressions. His heart broke, now understanding the bond the three shared and knowing there couldn’t be any room for him. 

How could they want him when they had each other?

He left, slipping into the night feeling more alone than ever before.

_one_

The sky was the same color as Athos’ eyes.

The idle thought drifted through d’Artagnan’s mind as he lay on his back. It was a pretty, cloudless day-one of those days when everything was perfect, or at least, should have been. He really could do without the warmth spreading across his chest. Or the pain coming from the same area.

What started out as a simple investigation into the murder of a count, quickly turned to a brutal fight when several of the locals ambushed the four of them at the counts home. D’Artagnan became separated from his friends almost immediately, Athos, Porthos and Aramis fighting shoulder to shoulder. Yet, the separation turned out to be a lucky thing as he spotted the man standing on the edge of the yard with his musket pointed at Athos.

He couldn’t help but smile. The musketeer was safe, having taken the shot meant for Athos at the same time as he impaled the shooter on his rapier. The soldier probably didn’t even know, probably would never know of this gift from the guardsman. 

That shooter now lay dead, mere inches away. D’Artagnan knew he would be joining the man in death soon. The shot had missed his heart, but he could still feel the life draining from him. It was strange that his heart continued to beat, even with the amount of hurt inflicted on it.

“D’Artagnan!”

He thought he heard Athos shout his name, but it had to be his imagination. The tone used was one reserved for those the man loved, not him. Never for him. Maybe if there had been a touch of annoyance or some anger, then maybe; but this tone was full of fear and anguish.

Someone was holding him. His eyes snapped open in surprise to find Athos cradling him as Aramis tore open his bloody shirt. Athos was saying something to him but the blood rushing in his ears blocked all other sounds. He forced a smile as a trembling hand lifted to brush the bearded face.

“It’s better this way…I’ll no longer be in the way…It was a stupid dream…to ever think I could be an equal…” He gasped as Aramis pressed a cloth to his wound. “I’m sorry… I’m so sorry…”

A tear finally escaped his eye as darkness claimed him.


End file.
